


Empathy and Ancient Runes

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Big Brother Dick Grayson, Crack, DaddyBats, Fluff, Gen, Humor, batfamily, cutie patootie damian wayne, damian being cute, irreverent jason todd, magical fairy princess dick grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: It’s summertime, and Damian is up to something by the pool, and somehow, he ropes his unwitting siblings into his grand plans.Furthermore, Dick has successfully become a suburban mother from the 70s, complete with apron, fresh cookies, and lemonade. Also, he might just be a little bit magical.Damian certainly thinks so.





	Empathy and Ancient Runes

Jason was reclined on the sofa at the manner, trying to read and to ignore the persistent glare of his baby brother boring into the side of his head.

“Todd.”

No such luck.

Jason sighed. “Damian.”

Damian scrambled up onto the sofa and proceeded to put himself in Jason’s space. “I need you to sign for a parcel. The FedEx fool will not let me, on account of being ‘a child’.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but got up, his eyes still firmly glued to the book. He was reading Agony and Ecstasy, and he was very much into the ecstasy bit of it, and wasn’t about to stop reading. Damian grabbed Jason’s free hand with both of his tiny ones, and proceeded to gently yank him to the hall and pressed a pen into his hands. 

“Sign here,” Damian said, guiding Jason’s hand. Jason did so, his eyes never leaving his book. 

Once the deed was done, the delivery man handed the parcel over to Damian, who squealed happily and slammed the door in his face with a hurried ‘thank you’. He remembered his manners, just as Grayson said. His job done, Jason wandered back into the sitting room to focus on a particularly heart-wrenching monologue. 

Damian paid him no heed, clutching the parcel to his chest. He hurried to his room and tore off the packaging to reveal a book with a letter from none other than R’as Al Ghul. It read,

“My most vicious grandson,

Here is your most evil and beautiful Grandmother’s grimoire as you requested. She would be so proud that you are following her footsteps in dark magicks. Careful of page seventeen, there is a curse on it. 

Your proud Grandfather,

R’as Al Ghul.”

Damian grinned evilly, which turned out to look cute on his face. The plan was afoot.

***

“Drake.”

Tim looked up from his desk where he was busy building yet another grenade launcher ‘multi shooter with dungbombs’ edition. “Damian,” he said warily. “What is it?”

“I require access to your amazon account. I have to purchase some personal items.”

Tim frowned. “Are they expensive?”

“Not particularly.”

Tim sighed, and got up. “Fine, but I need to see what you buy, alright?”

Damian beamed, and proceeded to drag Tim (a surprisingly easy task) to his room and sit him in front of the computer. “I require 50ml of ox blood, 6 teeth of a rabbit, a bundle of pure sage, and a waterproof marker.”

Tim looked askance at Damian, who smiled and bounced a little. Tim rolled his eyes and placed the order. “Do I need to ask why?”

Damian shook his head. “It is for nothing nefarious,” he said, “but rather for the betterment of this family. You shall see.”

Tim nodded. “Fine. Now, what do you say?” He prompted his brother.

“Thank you!” Damian said, patting himself on the head, and wrapping his arms around Tim’s middle before dashing out of the room, leaving Tim with the heebie jeebies of Damian cooties.

***

It was a bright summer morning when Damian put his plan into action. Or as Dick watching through the kitchen window put it - play time with Colin. 

Damian and Colin were dressed in black robes that pooled around their tiny legs sleeves that fell long past their little arms. They were standing at the edge of the pool, and drawing runes on the edge of the platform with a waterproof marker. Damian had decorated the runes with his ox blood and rabbits teeth, and was even burning some herbs.

Dick silently praised Damian’s imagination, and set about making some iced lemonade and chocolate chip cookies to take out to the little roleplaying wizard tots. 

Outside was a different story. 

“Now Colin, I need one of your hairs to burn and complete the ritual.”

Colin unquestioningly plucked out a hair and handing it over to Damian, who put in on top of the burning sage. 

“One hair from the head of a red headed child,” Damian read off of the spellbook, “check. Now, we shall proceed with the ritual!”

“Do we need to evil laugh, Dami?” Colin asked. 

“No, but let’s do it anyway, for ambience. BU-HA-HA.”

“BU-HA-HA,” Colin echoed his friend. 

The laughter brought Bruce out to check on the boys. In his experience, evil laughter was never a good thing. Upon seeing the runes and blood and the grimoire, Bruce concluded that he was right. 

“Damian, what’s going on here?” Bruce asked sternly. 

Damian turned around, showcasing his full dark wizard robes (various articles of old black clothing from Jason ripped up and sticthed into robes). “Father! You’re here!”

“What are you doing?” Bruce glowered. “These runes and magic invocations are serious business-“

Bruce stopped short at the slightly surreal sight of Dick coming towards them, dressed in a bright, frilly apron, and bearing a jug of lemonade, and a plate of cookies, looking like a suburban mother from the 70s. What even was his life, Bruce wondered, as Dick set about giving kisses and cookies and “drink up, boys, you must be getting thirsty from all your hard work!”

Damian slipped on his lemonade and grinned up at Dick. “We were getting a bit fatigued,” he confessed. “Dark magic is very difficult. One must be very precise.”

“That’s nice,” Dick said like a fool. “Are you playing nice?”

“Indeed,” Damian said. “We were just about to complete the ritual.”

“That’s so nice,” Dick smiled, and Bruce nearly pushed his frilly, flowery, oblivious ass into the pool. 

“Damian!” Bruce thundered, alerting the rest of the family, who came out to investigate, “explain yourself!”

Damian straightened up and took Bruce’s meath hand in his. “Father, I am attempting to recreate the Lazarus Pit in our swimming pool.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone. 

“That is a rune for regeneration,” Damian said, pointing out his handwork, “and that is for self-cleansing of the water. This one is for preservation.” Damian looked up proudly at his father. “It is so that you may never die again, Father,” he said. “If ever we find your body, we can reanimate you again! Grayson will never be sad again, and Todd will cease being destructive, and Drake will not have to take those pills-“

Damian never finished his sentence because Bruce had reached down and engulfed him in a big hug. Damian’s tiny hands flailed as the rest of his body sank into Bruce’s chest. 

“Damian,” Bruce whispered hoarsely. “You can’t-“

“I can and I will!”

Bruce laughed wetly, wiping his eyes. “No, son. You really can’t. This is dark magic, and K don’t want you to be inadvertently harmed because you didn’t do a spell right. And I promise,” he said solemnly, “that I will do my very best to never die, and to keep anyone else in our family from dying.”

Damian pouted, but didn’t look reassured. Dick handed the food tray off to Jason with instructions not to eat it, and bent down to kneel next to Damian. “Dami,” he said softly, “what you did was very sweet. You’re a very considerate boy for thinking about your family.”

Damian preened. 

“The Lazarus Pit is dark magic, and we don’t want you to be hurt trying to recreate it. Bruce was right.”

“Exactly-“ Bruce started,

“We’ll find you a mentor in the magical arts so that you can learn everything you need to from a proper instructor,” Dick said. Damian brightened and Bruce fell back in shock. 

“What, no-!”

“I’ll ask Raven if she could tutor you in the dark arts, how about that?” Dick asked, pulling Damian into his lap. 

“Colin too,” Damian insisted. 

Dick laughed. “Colin too,” he promised smiling at the hopeful looking ginger child. “Now, why don’t we clean this up, and you can come inside for some snacks?” 

Damian and Colin cheered and went about gathering up their supplies and scrubbing the blood off of the tiles while Bruce seethed. “Dick, you are the single most ridiculous person I have ever seen-ARGH!” He yelled, as he went tumbling into the pool due to the combined efforts of Tim and Jason. 

“Well done, young sirs,” Alfred praised, as Bruce spluttered indignantly in the water. 

“I didn’t know that you were so open to magic, Dick,” Tim observed. 

“Bah, you clearly know nothing then, Drake!” Damian piped up, rushing forward to lean against Dick. “Clearly, Grayson himself possesses magic!”

“No he doesn’t,” Jason snickered. “The moment Dick becomes magical is the moment I’ll eat my own ass.”

Chortling, Jason and Tim walked away, taunting Dick, his lacy apron, and Damian’s innocence. “Fools,” Damian spat after them, then looked up at Dick, who seemed to be following Jason with a hurt look in his eyes. A second later, Jason yelled, his foot slipping into a previously unnoticed pile of doggy doo, deposited by Ace or Titus. He slipped and fell over, head over butt.

Damian looked up at Dick in wonderment as Dick continued to look innocent. “Poor Little Wing,” he sympathized. Damian chuckled, and Dick smiled down at his little prince. 

And the sun shone a little brighter on them all.


End file.
